Heather Says, Non-Members

When more than six charter members meet,
their
names don't fit here.

News from the 'Café Metropole
Club'

Paris:- Thursday, 11. November 1999:- Unlike last
week, the weather is as miserable as it can get in November
- a month which can have Paris' most miserable weather.
Wind from the northeast, below 10 C. and shifting between
'about to rain,' drizzle and plain rain.

Just about right for the annual Armistice Day ceremonies
in Paris and 11. November ceremonies elsewhere in Europe.
If I remember correctly, 'carnival' officially starts at
11:11, on 11. November - in Cologne - and workers who can
get away with it, get happily potted today throughout
Germany.

A perfect day for a Café Metropole Club meeting
in other words. For me it is 'between drizzle and plain
rain' for the quickly-covered distance from the
métro at Châtelet to the café La
Corona.

Ah, this is what a cozy and warm café in Paris,
in November, is supposed to be. Cars are splashing by on
the Quai du Louvre outside, the express café machine
is cooking, and the café is sprinkled with refugees
from the elements.

Hot, hot onion soup, on a cold,
damp day in Paris.

The first refugees - ah, em, charter members - to arrive
are Heather Stimmler, who is not working at Elle Online
because it is a holiday, and Heather's husband, Mike Hall,
who is not working at Barclay's Bank for the same
reason.

As soon as they sit down, Mike becomes a new charter
member and they both order onion soup. They also ask
Patrick, today's 'club' waiter, for napkins. The couple
think they been gassed somehow on the Quai du Louvre, and
their eyes are all runny.

Patrick says kids spray tear gas in the faces of people
on the terraces, in order to filch their portable phones.
But there are no people on open terraces today. Maybe they
got hit with an accidental spray from the plant boutique
just down the quay.

Today is definitely an 'onion soup day.' I do not know
the 'folklore' of this soup and neither does Heather, so we
make some up. Besides lumpy stuff, Heather is certain the
soup contains onions. We wonder together whether they are
from concentrated onion juice, or from real, whole onions.
She says it is hard to tell.

If you like onion soup, La Corona's is not bad, for 45
francs a bowl. "Not quite as good,' says Heather, "As the
place near Sèvres-Babylone."

Jan and Dana Shaw come in from the elements outside.
Their big news is a tale of scoring an autograph off
Andre Agassi and a shy
Stefi Graf - who were in Paris for the 'Open' at Bercy,
which Mr. Agassi won - while they were at the airport to
put Jan's mother, Eveline, on a flight to Albany.

It being a holiday, for the 'club' it is 'Husband's
Day.' I have met Kathleen Bouvier's Marcel before - most
notably at the Statue of
Liberty light-up. Kathleen is also the only one to
bring a mom today; I re-welcome Veronica Hendrie.

But
not so cold and damp - for a big chocolate sundae.

Meanwhile, Heather thinks it is her wedding anniversary.
She and Mike got married - the 'civil' version - in the
Mairie of the 4th arrondissement on 17. April and the
church ceremony was - but I do not find out.

Veronica Hendrie has invited Maryann and Joe Platania,
and they come in - from the elements - and instantly become
'magazine non-reader' charter members.

Mike quits trying to remember when the church ceremony
was and asks, "If we are all charter members, what other
kind of members are there?"

"Non-members," says Heather.

Most of the members present are drinking La Corona's red
wine that comes in glass jugs. Patrick, who is definitely a
charter member as well as our waiter, de-recommends the 25
cl. jug, saying, "You only get one and a half balloons out
of one."

These are the customary Paris café 15 cl. balloon
glasses. Kathleen and I try to calculate how many of these
glasses can be filled from a 50 cl. jug. This is impossible
because a 15 cl. 'balloon' only holds about the same amount
as two shot-glasses, and these are being emptied before
they get a chance to evaporate.>Continued on page 2...